


Long Night

by ChameleonCircuit



Series: In Sickness [1]
Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rhodestead - Freeform, Sick Fic, Sickfic, Sort Of, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: The lock clicked, and Will’s face appeared, pale and shining with sweat, eyes sunken and heavy-lidded, hair sticking to his neck and forehead. He was visibly shivering, one arm wrapped around his own middle as he leaned against the doorframe with the other, and Connor felt a pang deep in his stomach at the sight of him.“Jesus,” he whispered, and Will huffed a laugh that turned into a cough that racked his whole body. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”“No,” Will insisted, grabbing at Connor’s sleeve. “I’m fine, I just need...you.”





	Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was from a tumblr prompt:  
> ‘Character A cradling the sick/injured Character B’s head in their lap, trying to hide their worry behind a wavering smile as they whisper soothing nothings to them and brush stray strands of hair from their forehead.’
> 
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/181880733212/character-a-cradling-the-sickinjured-character

Connor wasn’t sure what to expect as he climbed the stairs to Will’s apartment. When he’d first got the call, first seen Will’s name light up his screen at eleven at night, he’d felt a small glimmer of hope at the idea that maybe Will was thinking of him, maybe he wanted to share a drink, maybe all the times he’d wondered if there was something between them hadn’t just been his overactive imagination. But when he’d heard Will’s voice, slurred and raspy, asking Connor to come over, all hope had been replaced by concern.

“Will?” Connor called after knocking, stomach swirling uncomfortably.

He’d tried to reason with himself that Will was a doctor, that if he was in any kind of serious trouble he would have got himself to Med, not just called Connor, but that didn’t stop his nerves from building as the seconds ticked by and Will still hadn’t answered his door. That didn’t stop his mind from conjuring up all sorts of images of the state Will could be in, of all the reasons he wouldn’t be answering, as he waited.

Eventually, the lock clicked, and Will’s face appeared, pale and shining with sweat, eyes sunken and heavy-lidded, hair sticking to his neck and forehead. He was visibly shivering, one arm wrapped around his own middle as he leaned against the doorframe with the other, and Connor felt a pang deep in his stomach at the sight of him.

“Jesus,” he whispered, and Will huffed a laugh that turned into a cough that racked his whole body. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No,” Will insisted, grabbing at Connor’s sleeve. “I’m fine, I just need...you.”

Connor’s stomach flipped, and he ducked his head for a moment, trying to tramp down on how affected he was by a basic fever-induced comment, before schooling his expression into something far more stern, far more doctor-like and less like a man with a crush.

“Given that comment, your fever must be dangerously high.” Connor’s tone was serious, but Will just grinned at him, looking somewhat dazed.

“I called you, didn’t I?”

Connor rolled his eyes with a small sigh. “God knows why.”

“Because I trust you.” Will’s voice had turned serious, eyebrows drawing together.

“Then trust me when I say--”

“No hospital.”

“You are your father’s son,” Connor muttered under his breath, pushing his way into Will’s apartment.

“I guess I am,” Will responded quietly, following Connor into the lounge room, and Connor couldn’t help but track him with his eyes, guilt joining his concern for a moment.

It was a slow walk through the very small room, but Connor was patient, keeping a hand on Will’s arm just to be sure. Once Will sat down, his eyes closed instantly, head lolling against the back of the lounge, and Connor was struck by how sweet he would look if he didn’t also look to be on death’s door.

“Okay,” Connor said quietly, kneeling in front of Will. “I’ll check your heart rate and temperature, but--”

“Can’t you just sit with me?” Will murmured, reaching for Connor’s hand, struggling to open his eyes.

“Will, I--”

“My temperature’s 103, it hasn’t gone up since last night. Heart rate’s normal. Breathing hurts, but I can still manage on my own.”

“Then why call me?”

Will gave his hand a squeeze, offering a soft smile. “‘Cause I trust you.”

“You already said that,” Connor said with a sigh, but he squeezed Will’s hand in return. “If your fever gets any higher, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Fine,” Will agreed with a huff before patting the lounge beside him. “Just don’t leave.”

With an over-dramatic sigh, Connor heaved himself off the ground and sat beside Will, trying desperately to ignore the way his stomach was fluttering at the thought that Will simply wanted him here.

After a moment’s silence, Will leaned against Connor, slowly lowering himself until his head was in his lap, and he couldn’t resist threading his fingers through Will’s hair instantly, smoothing the sweat-slicked strands back away from his face. Worry churned in his stomach, constricted his chest, as he felt how hot Will’s forehead was, body shivering almost violently in his lap.

“I’ll take your temperature again in an hour,” Connor whispered, and Will grunted in response, burying his face into Connor’s stomach.

Connor simply sat there stroking Will’s hair, checking his temperature every so often as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He knew Will would likely be fine, that this was simply a flu or a bug and it would pass. He knew all he could do was be here to make sure, but it didn’t stop him from feeling helpless, didn’t stop him from worrying as he watched Will shiver and sweat and retch long after there was nothing left in his stomach to bring up.

It was sunlight hitting his eyes that woke Connor, and for a moment he felt disoriented, a surge of panic running through him before he heard a groan and felt someone shift in his lap, and he remembered where he was.

“Hey,” Connor whispered, voice raspy with sleep. “How you feelin’?”

“Embarrassed,” Will muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Temperature’s gone down,” Connor informed, relief flooding through him so fast his limbs felt simultaneously heavy and weightless, somehow. “You had me worried there, for a moment.”

Will groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Sorry for making you come here.”

“It’s fine,” Connor assured, fingers running through Will’s hair again without really thinking about it.

They both froze completely for a second, but when Connor went to remove his hand, Will grabbed hold of his wrist, eyes suddenly wide and desperate.

“Why did you come?”

“Because you asked.”

Connor watched Will’s adam’s apple bob, watched as he licked his lips, hold on Connor’s wrist tightening just a little.

“Why did you stay?”

“Because you asked,” Connor repeated, voice gentle.

He tried to ignore how wildly his heart was beating, tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he looked at Will, expression as open and earnest as he could manage without feeling completely exposed. Eventually, Will released his hold on his wrist, fingers brushing his hand hesitantly, and in a bold move, pushing aside all doubt and fear, Connor linked their fingers.

“I had to make sure you were okay,” he whispered, giving Will’s hand a small squeeze. “Because I care.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Connor couldn’t quite get a read on Will’s expression, but eventually he broke out into a grin, letting his eyes drift shut again.

“Thanks, Connor,” he said quietly, running his thumb along Connor’s hand, and Connor couldn’t help but smile, heart swelling.

“Any time.”


End file.
